


Rewritten

by Treebros_Intensifies



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Actually on hold for god knows how long, Additional tws will probably be before the chapter, Angst, Bisexual Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Bisexual Evan Hansen, Borderline Personality Disorder, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jared sorta tries to not be awful, Larry Murphy Tries (Dear Evan Hansen), M/M, Mental Health Issues, More tags to be added, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, The author takes forever to update, the author doesn’t know what the crap they’re doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24913279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treebros_Intensifies/pseuds/Treebros_Intensifies
Summary: Different death.Different reason.Different outcome.Same story.What if Evan had successfully talked to Zoe outside of the Jazz Band Concert? What if they had become friends? Lovers, maybe?Zoe has been missing from school for two days, as has her gloomy older brother. Evan doesn’t know why, until October 3rd, where he learns she took her own life.No one knows why; her family, her friends, or her boyfriend...The truth comes to the surface slowly, as so do the pains of love and reality.
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy, Evan Hansen/Zoe Murphy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	1. For Forever?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Well, TW) inferred suicide

_End of May, or early June,_

_This picture perfect afternoon,_

_We share_

_Drive the winding country road,_

_Grab a scoop at À La Mode,_

_And then we're there._

_An open field that's framed with trees,_

_We pick a spot and shoot the breeze,_

_Like partners do_

_Quoting songs from our favourite bands,_

_And telling jokes no one understands,_

_Except us two._

_And we talk, and take in the view._

_All we see is sky, for forever,_

_We let the world pass by, for forever_

_Feels like we could go on, for forever_

_This way,_

_Just us, on a perfect day._

_We walk a while, and talk about_

_The things we'll do when we get out of school,_

_Bike the Appalachain Trail,_

_Or write a book, or learn to sail,_

_Wouldn't that be cool?_

_There's nothing that we can't discuss,_

_Like people we wish would talk to us,_

_But never do_

_You look around, and say to me_

_"There's nowhere else, I'd rather be,"_

_And I say,_

_"Me too."_

_And we talk, and take in the view._

_We just talk, and take in the view._

_All we see is light, for forever_

_Cause the sun shines bright, for forever_

_Like we'll be alright, for forever,_

_This way,_

_Just us, on a perfect day._

_And then there you go, racing towards the tallest tree,_

_From far across the golden fields, I hear you calling, "follow me!"_

_And there we go, wondering how the world might look from up so high,_

_One foot, after the other,_

_One branch, then to another,_

_We climb higher, and higher,_

_You climb 'til the entire sun_

_Shines your face_

_Then suddenly, I hear your branch give way._

_You're on the ground,_

_I can tell your arm is numb_

_I climb down,_

_And I come to help you,_

_I hope I helped you,_

_I hope everything's okay_

_All we see is sky, for forever_

_We let the world pass by, for forever,_

_Evan, it can't be us for forever, this way,_

_this way._

_All we saw was light_

_'Cause the sun burned bright_

_We had been alright for forever that way_

_Just us,_

_Only us,_

_On that perfect day._

_I'm sorry._

_Don’t be disappointed or disheartened, Evan. We’ll see each other again some time._

_-Zoe_

———

Connor trudges up the stairs to get his sister. She's been in the bathroom a really long time, meaning she's either doing drugs, or very constipated from using them. 

"Zoe! Dinner! Now!" He knocks on the door and doesn't get an answer.

It isn't unlike his sister to ignore him. 

"I'll kick down the fucking door if you don't respond in three." _Really? No response? Fine!_

"One," 

"Two," 

"Fuck it. If you insist."

A loud crash sounds, as the door flies open, breaking both the handle, and a few of the hinges.

"Zoe?" 

A beat.

"Zoe," his speech is barely a whisper above the sounds of his parents coming up to see what was with all the commotion. 

Silence.

Cynthia breaks down, Larry panics. Connor is the only one who has his head screwed on right for once. 

"FUCKING, SOMEONE CALL NINE-ONE-ONE ALREADY!"


	2. Mr Howard Stepped Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few more suicide references

I stumble my way to the office, mind buzzing with questions as to why my name had been called. It isn’t like me to be summoned to meet with the principal, that was usually reserved for delinquents and class clowns. 

Could it be related to Zoe? Why she’s... why she’s been missing, and why she hasn’t been responding to my messages? 

I poke my head into the room, and instead of finding the principal sitting at his desk, I see my girlfriend’s parents. 

“Uh— oh, uhm, Mr, a-and Mrs Murphy, uhm, C-connor, I— Mr Howard called me to the, uh, here. Called me here.” I splutter, feeling as if I’ll pass out any second. If Connor is here, and not his sister...

“Mr Howard, he uh... stepped out,” Mr Murphy says. “We wanted to talk to you in private.” He gestures to a chair for me to claim. I oblige reluctantly, and take a seat.

“Go ahead, honey.” Larry says, placing a hand on Cynthia’s shoulder.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” she hisses back. 

I wait for the two in an awkward silence, wiping my hands on my pants every so often.

“Here,” Cynthia hands him a piece of folded up paper. “Go on, Evan, read it.” 

I take the paper hesitantly, but don’t open it, fearing what I’ll read when I do.

“These are the words... that she wanted to share, with you...” The Murphys share a look with each other. “Her... last words.” 

The words don’t register.

“I— I’m sorry, I... what do you mean last words?” 

“It means Zoe killed herself.” Connor says bluntly from his place next to his mother. The room goes quiet, like the world itself froze completely in anticipation for my response. None comes.

“She offed herself right before dinner three days ago,” he continues. “I was the one who found her. She had two notes; that one, and the one for her parents.” 

“Connor, you’re our son too.” Cynthia says quietly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. I don’t think I should be here. It’s suddenly gotten a lot more personal. I should go.

“Yeah right,” He mutters. Oh yeah, I really should make my exit. “You care so much about me you gave up on treatments and just resorted to giving me lithium pills. Which are just making me gain weight, by the way.” 

“I— I’m, I should, I’ll go. Like, I mean, I think I should... leave, I should leave.” I shakily stand, and trip about two feet, when Mrs Murphy grabs my bag. I freeze like a deer in the headlights. 

“Evan, this, these were the only things we have! Do you know why? Did you see anything? Notice anything—” Cynthia cries, desperation dancing through her eyes, tears threatening to spill.  
“I— I, I’m, I don’t, I— I should...”

My surroundings are disappear, I’m numb, cold, and the room is suddenly clammy. I need to cry. I want to cry. But I can’t. 

Time blurs together, I know I got invited to her wake, I know I got an eighty-two on a math test, I know I got excused from gym, I know I almost fell out of the bus when I was getting out at my stop, I know I ran into my mom at the door, and I know I collapsed into my bed to cry.

Zoe’s gone, and nothing can bring her back. 

I’m alone. 

The dark won.

Even against the sun.

Snuffed out. 

I shouldn’t fade into the shadows though.

Should I?

I open my eyes. It looks like it’s around six pm. My phone goes off next to my face. I check, hunch forming as to who it is messaging me. 

Jared.

 _J.KisNOTgae:_ Hey evan, I heard about your girlfriend.

 _Ev.Hansen:_ What about her?

 _J.KisNOTgae:_ She’s dead. right? she killed herself. 

_Ev.Hansen:_ What’s it to you?

 _J.KisNOTgae:_ I just wanted to offer you my condolences. She was the closest thing to you getting laid, after all.

 _Ev.Hansen:_ Thanks, I guess.

 _J.KisNOTgae:_ Don’t mention it ev.

A notification appears. ‘Cracked.Mentally’? Who’s that? I tap onto the dm they started with me. They’re... sharing a post. One of Alana’s posts, actually. 

I open it. There’s a selfie of her and Zoe as the first slide. I swipe right, and there’s a video of Alana. 

_“My name is Alana, as you may not know, and I’ll be talking about a very dear friend who has recently commit suicide. Her name was Zoe Murphy, and now, she has joined nearly forty-five thousand unfortunately successful others. This is the first of many blogs I will post about the topic. If you need help, there are suicide prevention hotlines in the description, and informational sources. And if you just need to talk to someone, my dms are open,”_ I exit the post. I can’t watch any more. At least, not today.

But, wow, Alana, she is pretty informed. I hop over to the dm... Cracked.Mentally has started with me. 

_Ev.Hansen:_ Thanks...

_Cracked.Mentally liked your message._

Who is this person?


	3. Good for Me…

I slowly enter the building, and I swear I can feel all eyes turn to me. Whispers start to blow around like a breeze rustling tree leaves, and a girl I don’t know comes up to me. She’s from the popular girls clique, and is clad in blue clothing.

“Hey... Evan, right? My friends and I are so sorry for your loss. I knew Zoe, she was a good friend of mine, before,” she gestures to the other three girls waiting impatiently at her locker. They all seem to have a designated color. “Them.” 

“T-thanks.” I stammer. Why is a popular girl talking to me? She hands me a small card-sized envelope. I take it reluctantly, and delicately put it in my pocket. 

“See you around.” 

I barely make it through a doorway before I get stopped by someone else. She has two-toned hair, and is wearing clothing from the time I was maybe nine. A big, baggy jacket, a striped sweater, ripped jean shorts, fancy lace stocking things, and studded combat boots. 

“Dames and I give our condolences to you. Zoe seemed nice. We had Homeroom together.” She pats my shoulder.

I scamper away, and bump into someone. 

“Sorry!” I squeak. This person looks like one of the edgy stoners, like Connor, but a lot meaner. 

He looks down at me, ruffles my hair, and walks off. 

That wasn’t horrible... I don’t think...

Once I’m at my locker (which has flowers and little messages taped to it, and now looks like a garden), I’ve received seven cards, two bouquets of flowers, a lot of shoulder pats and hugs...

And a new record of how many people I’ve interacted with in a single day.

This sucks. 

They should be consoling her family. Not me. I’m a no one who got lucky for barely two months and a half.

After a little bit of looking around and sorting things (plus checking up on my mushroom garden), I close my locker, and head to homeroom.

The day drifts by, people are still giving me shoulder pats, and flowers, and cards, and inviting me to sit at their table for lunch.  
Lunch. 

Yes, that’s... that’s right now. Do I... sit with the art kids? Theatre kids? Popular kids? Alone? I’ll sit alone. Yes. Good idea.

I slip from the cafeteria, and into the courtyard. I find a nice, quiet spot in the corner where I set up ‘camp’. ‘Camp’ being collapsing, taking out a sandwich and not eating it because my phone just buzzed with a notification. 

I open my phone to check what Instagram pinged me for.

My new ‘friend’, C.M, sent me a message, and is still active. 

Cracked.Mentally: I like your profile. No selfies, just trees and nature. It’s pretty

Why’d they bring that up now?

Ev.Hansen: Thank you, I like yours too.

Truth be told, I actually haven’t visited their account. Guess I should do that now. I tap on their name, and get met with a profile that has a very monotonous palette. 

There are greyscale close-up photos that look professionally taken, blacked out boxes (as filler, I suppose), and desaturated drawings ranging from intricate pencil sketches, to flowing watercolor brush strokes. 

My eyes drift to one of their pencil drawings. It’s skilled, bizarre, and unnerving to say the least. 

This specific post has a man in rain gear holding an umbrella, rats and spiders are falling from the sky, and all of the surroundings are also covered in them. There’s a caption in the bottom that reads “Crittercism”.

Nice to know that they have a sense of humor I can get with.

I scroll back up, and re-enter our dms. C.M is typing something. 

The dots disappear for a second, and then they start up again. Then they disappear, and don’t pop up again. They don’t know what to say. 

_Ev.Hansen:_ So... on a more depressing subject... it seems like you also knew Zoe? When did you two meet.. uhm, how long did you know her? We’re you friends? 

_Ev.Hansen:_ *were

I wait for a response. 

The bell rings, and I pack up, finishing my sandwich on the way to the next class. Well, the class I’m having a free period at. 

//timeskip to Evan doing his homework in his room because I cannot write school scenes for the life of me//

My phone buzzes next to me. I can have a quick break from writing about cell structures, right? I take my phone to check what the notification is from. Another message from C.M (on Instagram). I open the dms to see what they wrote.

_Cracked.Mentally:_ I knew Zoe for a majority of her life, as friends, but we had a falling out. More my fault, if you want to blame anyone, I was unreachable for five or six years; moving around from place to place and whatnot. We got into a lot of arguments and stuff. 

_Cracked.Mentally:_ Sounds weird, but I met her at the hospital

I want to ask for their name. I mean, I now have a slight hunch as to who they are, and I kind of want to make sure. But I also don’t... because if I’m wrong, that just proves my stupidity.

I... I can ask some time later.

_Ev.Hansen:_ Oh, I met her at a Jazz Band concert. I really ‘knew’ her for a little less than a year.

_Cracked.Mentally:_ You two were dating, I know

_Ev.Hansen:_ Alright,,

_Ev.Hansen:_ Uh, I gotta go now, maybe talk later?

_Cracked.Mentally:_ Sure, Ev

I feel bad for doing that. Cutting the conversation off like that with a lie. I just started to feel uncomfortable. And tired. And, unfortunately, hungry. I don’t want to have to order something.

And I’m not in the mood for warming up dumplings...

I throw my phone into the pile of clothes in the corner of my room, and flop backwards onto my bed. Oh god, my back is sore. Maybe I can just sleep. I mean, it isn’t like you’re hungry when you’re unconscious, right? I roll over so my face is planted in the mattress. It’s only around ten... let’s see if this isn’t too early for me to pass out.

I can worry about food tomorrow. And all those cards. And if everyone will be acting the same. Oh yes, and the wake that’s also tomorrow. I think. Yeah. It’s tomorrow as well. Let’s go and worry about that, why don’t we?

My worries follow me to dreamland.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know how many people read this and like it... but oh well. I’ll keep posting either way. 
> 
> Kudos and feedback is much appreciated! :)
> 
> That’s all for now,
> 
> -C


End file.
